Magic and Steel
by Kenya Starflight
Summary: Crossover of Transformers G1 and the Disney Animated Canon. When Megatron accidentally resurrects the dark fairy Maleficent, the two discover they have an unlikely common enemy, and an alliance that no one could ever have predicted is forged. Warning for completely crack pairing.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_This story begins at an end. Not "the end" – what proper story begins at the very end, after all – but at an end. Or, more appropriately, one story's end is merely the beginning of this one._

_Everyone knows the tale by now – even in this day and age where the fairy tale has become a lost art, the story is well-known almost to the point of becoming tiresome. A child is born, a curse is cast by an unspeakable force, a lighter power amends the curse, a kiss is delivered, and two lovers live happily ever after. The obstacles along the way may vary according to the teller of the tale, but by most accounts the ending is the same, time after time._

_But "happily ever after" seldom lasts forever… and one tale's "happily ever after" may serve as another tale's "once upon a time."_

_Our story begins at the end of this one, with a sword cast, a mortal wound dealt, and a dark power vanquished… for a time._

_And as Prince Phillip rides to the lonely castle to deliver his kiss and complete his "happily ever after," a new tale begins…_

* * *

Pain.

It took her a moment to realize what this feeling was – no foe had wounded her in battle for so long she had almost forgotten what it was like to feel pain. But this pain was different somehow… and with a shock that was worse than the pain she realized why. This wasn't any wound – this was a mortal one.

_It cannot be! _She felt no fear even as mortal agony seared through her body, blooming outward from where the Sword of Truth lay buried at the juncture of neck and chest. Instead a terrible, thwarted rage burned in her, warring with the pain. This couldn't have happened! She could not have lost in her moment of triumph, so close to having that mewling Prince Phillip crushed in her grip!

Pain gave way to numbness, and her draconian body went limp, falling toward the hapless Prince. A brief burst of joy filled her as his expression shifted from triumph to blank horror. Perhaps, in death, she would win, and crush Phillip to death at the height of his glory…

But the idiot Prince managed to scramble out of the way just in time. She made a final, futile snap in his direction even as she fell, the cliff's edge crumbling under her weight. By now her entire body felt numb, barely registering the crushing blows it received as she fell down the cliff face, pummeled by falling rock the entire way.

Though her body's grip on life was fading fast, her mind was sharp as ever. And though her wounds were beyond healing, there was a final option open to her.

The Sword of Truth still jutted from her flesh, and with the last of her strength she poured her entire being into its blade – all her power, all her mind, all her soul and strength. The sword quivered like a live thing, almost shrieking as its own bright power resisted her… but as strong as those wretched three fairies' powers were, her own were far stronger. And it was the work of seconds to absorb the sword's own powers as her own, corrupting the blade and blackening it dark as night.

_It isn't over, O Prince_. This she vowed, even as sight and sound vanished from her conscious mind. Prince Phillip might ride off to the castle, eager to kiss Princess Aurora awake and claim his true love, oblivious to the fact that his foe wasn't truly dead. He might even live a long, happy life and die of old age, never the wiser. His children, and their children, and their children's children might live happy lives, or at least lives of relative content, and they might even forget that the great and powerful Maleficent had once threatened their ancestor.

But she was patient. She could wait however long it took for some luckless individual to find the sword and free her from her prison. And when that day came, she would have her revenge upon Phillip and Aurora's descendents.

All she need do was wait…

* * *

Hundreds of miles away, in a tiny, cluttered cottage in the middle of a dark wood, an old man opened his eyes, blinking away the vestiges of a sudden, but not entirely unwelcome, vision.

Merlin remained still a moment, taking time to properly digest what he had seen. Then he sighed and sat back in his chair, taking a long draw of his pipe. All around him the instruments of his workshop kept up their steady pace, beakers and decanters of chemicals puffing and bubbling, tiny instruments softly whirring and clicking, a tub and washboard scrubbing a set of his undershorts all by themselves. Even Archimedes, his entirely-too-chatty assistant, was silent, head tucked under one wing as he napped on the perch of his house high in a corner.

Not too surprising, he thought, that one of Maleficent's schemes should finally backfire on her. Nor was he entirely surprised that even in death, she had found a way to cheat the system. Most magicians and fae accepted that immortality did not necessarily mean invincibility, and there still existed the possibility that an ill-timed spell or a powerful opponent would finally do them in. Even he had foreseen his own death in the distant future, and had resolved to face it with quiet dignity when it finally showed up to claim him.

_Why is it_, he thought as he puffed his pipe, _that only the dark sorcerers and wicked fairies seek to live forever?_ Perhaps something about the thirst for power made them reluctant to give it up in the face of anything, even the final end. Or perhaps they simply had an entitlement complex, thinking the world owed them everything, even eternal life. He had never stopped to ask the reason when he'd encountered one – too often he was preoccupied with fighting them to ask.

He sighed and tapped the table, and the tea set rattled to life, preparing him a fresh cup. There was precious little he could do to stop Maleficent from carrying her scheme out. Oh, he could go retrieve the Sword of Truth himself (though it could hardly be called that anymore – would Sword of Lies be more appropriate?), and devote the rest of his life to keeping it out of the hands of anyone who would abuse it. But he didn't exactly have that kind of time, not with his fateful meeting with young Arthur due to happen any day now.

No, the most he could do was prepare for the day – and that day would come – when some luckless adventurer would find the sword and break it, unleashing Maleficent upon the world once again. In some ways he actually pitied that poor fool – he rather doubted Maleficent would be any kinder to him than she would be to the descendents of the one who had killed her…

Another vision tickled the back of his mind, and he sighed and shut his eyes, letting it play out. Blast it, how was he going to get anything done today if he kept being interrupted?

An underground bunker appeared in his mind's eye… a ship from another world, one that had buried itself in a mountainside long ago and had lain there, undisturbed, ever since. Bodies lay scattered about like dolls a careless child had forgotten to put away, armored in multicolored metal… no, wait, they were actually _made _of metal, like clockwork toys. Fascinating… and if this place didn't lay half a world away he might pack up and actually go there, if only to study them in greater detail…

The vision zeroed in on one body in particular, this one silver and black, with a wicked violet crest on his chest. His body lay inert and lifeless… but his face was frozen in an expression of anger and triumph, the noble features still wearing a faint, terrible grin. In a way, it wasn't too dissimilar from Maleficent's own expression of triumph, equal parts sneer and exultation…

_So that's the one, _he thought, opening his eyes again. _The one who will release Maleficent. Though it looks like she'll be waiting a good long while… I hope the poor fool knows what he's getting into._

The sugar pot rapped his knuckles with its spoon, and he gave it an irritable flick before reaching for his teacup. Forewarned was forearmed, at least, and while his duties to Arthur would keep him occupied here for awhile, he at least knew what to watch out for. And perhaps, closer to time, his clairvoyance would actually give him some useful information on how to stop Maleficent from wreaking too much havoc upon her return. It was such a fickle ability at times.

He would wait. However long it took for those two to cross paths, he could wait. Maleficent wasn't the only one who could be patient if she had to be… and he had nothing but time at the moment.


	2. Witwicky Castle

Optimus Prime braked to a stop about fifty yards from the magnificent castle before them, his tires grinding against the unpaved road. Behind him he could hear the crunch of dirt and small pebbles as the other Autobots drew to a halt as well, pulling up just behind their leader. One by one their engines faded to an idle background growl, soft enough that one could still hear birdsong and the whisper of wind in the grass and leaves. Even Jazz had cut his radio, its usual thumping base absent and giving way to more natural sounds.

They had reached their destination… but no one made any move to transform, or to open their doors and let their human passengers out. Everyone was caught up in looking at the castle, marveling at how much of it had withstood the test of time and imagining what it must have looked like in its days of glory. Even now, Prime admitted, it was a thing of grandeur – much of it remained intact, even if ivy and moss were slowly reclaiming the weathered stone and grass outlined the cobblestones of the courtyard. It was like opening the pages of a human storybook, and watching an image from inside spring to life.

"Beautiful," Sparkplug murmured from Prime's driver seat.

"It's quite impressive," Prime agreed, and popped open the door to allow the elder Witwicky to exit. "Who owns it now?"

"Some German historical society," Sparkplug replied as he climbed down from Prime's cab. "I'm not too fussed about the Witwickys trying to get it back, though. They'll at least make sure it's preserved for posterity and treated respectfully. And what am I gonna do with a castle?"

Prime chuckled and transformed to his robot mode, never taking his optics off the ruins – though they were preserved well enough that "ruins" seemed an inappropriate word for them. "Autobots, transform!"

Bumblebee swung open his doors, letting Spike and Carly disembark before transforming as well. "I'll be a junker's uncle… it's like we're back in the days of King Arthur!"

"This castle doesn't date back that far," Spike replied. "Still, it's pretty cool, isn't it?"

"I'll say," Carly added. "Though seeing all those weeds around it makes me sad. I want to go in there and start yanking them out."

"The historical society will know how to take care of the plant problem without damaging the castle," Prime assured her. "For now we're simply here to look around, and for Sparkplug to take notes."

Jazz glanced around, frowning. "Thought there'd be more people 'round here. Ain't the castles in Europe kinda a hot spot for tourists?"

"The historical society arranged for Sparkplug and his family to have a private tour of the castle and its property," Prime replied. "Our guide should be here any minute."

Jazz nodded, but he shifted restlessly back and forth. "Nice place… but too quiet. Once we're done here I wanna head back into Berlin an' check out what kinda night life they have here."

Hound chuckled. "C'mon, Jazz, learn to appreciate the peace and quiet for once. It'll do you some good."

"Not all of us are happy bein' hermits, man," Jazz teased, lightly punching Hound's shoulder.

Prime let the scout and saboteur bicker good-naturedly, content to study the castle for now. It wasn't strictly necessary for him or any of the Autobots to accompany Sparkplug to the German countryside, on a trip to discover more about the human's heritage. But Sparkplug was a friend, and he had done so much to help the Autobots over the years. It would have been rude for Prime not to help him in return, even if it was simply to provide him an escort on his trip just in case anything unfortunate happened.

Sparkplug raised his camera, clicking away, then lowered it and began to jot down some notes. Of late the mechanic had been on a genealogy kick, looking up old records on the Witwicky family and seeing how far back he could trace their roots. He had fully expected the search to lead to Ellis Island and then hit a dead end there, but somehow his interest had managed to infect Perceptor and Skids as well. The scientist and theoretician had gone digging further, and before long they had uncovered far more information than Sparkplug had dreamed possible.

Including the information that apparently the Witwickys were descended from a royal line… and still had a castle somewhere in Germany.

Sparkplug had downplayed the news, stating that their family's kingdom had long since been absorbed into another, stronger kingdom, then into Germany itself, and that any claim he might have on any sort of royalty was ceremonial at best. But that did little to dim everyone's excitement – Spike thought it was awesome that they were descended from royalty, however minor, and the Autobots had taken to treating Sparkplug like nobility, jokingly calling their human companions King Sparkplug and Prince Spike (or Princess Spike if they thought the young man was being overly whiney). Even Grimlock got in on the action, remarking that the Ark now had two Kings aboard and that people had better start treating the mechanic with some respect.

To the man's credit, he hadn't let the revelation go to his head. As far as he was concerned he was still just Sparkplug Witwicky, a hardworking family man and sometime honorary Autobot. The only way he took advantage of his newfound heritage at all was accepting an offer to take a private tour of the castle that had once belonged to his family. And given that it essentially meant a free trip to Europe and an opportunity that might never come again, how could he say no?

A navy-blue Audi pulled up, parking just beside Bumblebee, and a man in slacks and a green polo shirt stepped out. He looked up at the yellow Autobot with a bemused expression.

"Are you… Sparkplug?" he asked in thickly accented English.

Bumblebee laughed. "No, sir, Sparkplug's over there with the camera."

"Ah." The man nodded and hurried over, extending a hand. "Mr. Witwicky! It is a pleasure to meet you in person at last! I am Felix, and I'll be your guide for the day."

"Right, you're from the historical society." Sparkplug handed his notebook and camera to Spike and reached out to shake his hand. "It's nice to finally put a face to a name. Thank you so much for this opportunity. It's a great way to get in better touch with my roots, I feel."

"Indeed, sir. And you're fortunate to have such a fascinating family line!" Felix glanced up at Prime, as if just noticing he was there. "Unfortunately, the castle is not large enough to accommodate your… friends. Would they object to waiting outside?"

"We understand, Felix, and we don't object," Prime assured him. "We will be content with a tour of the grounds."

Felix nodded. "If you will follow me, sir, we will get started…"

Bumblebee watched as Sparkplug, Spike, and Carly followed their guide into the castle, a wistful look on his face. "It's funny… usually I find myself wishing I was bigger. But it's times like this when I wish I was smaller. So I can experience the same things as our human friends."

"Sparkplug will take plenty of photos, Bumblebee," Prime assured the yellow minibot. "We'll have our chance to see what the interior looks like."

"Yeah, but… it's not the same."

Prime couldn't argue with that… and he had to admit that he, too, was just slightly jealous of Sparkplug. He wondered if he could get away with sending Roller inside to get video of the castle's interior. It wasn't quite a live tour, but it would be better than nothing.

Hound, meanwhile, had crouched down to inspect the plant growth crawling up the exterior wall of the castle. He twisted his mouth plates in a thoughtful expression as he carefully lifted a length of vine in his fingers. Then he lowered it and picked up another, frowning.

"We're here to look at an ancient castle and you're here studying the plant life, Hound," Bumblebee pointed out, laughing. "Finding anything interesting?"

"Yes, actually." Hound picked up the two vines and held them up. "There're two different kinds of vine here. One's native to these parts, but… I can't identify the second."

Jazz shrugged. "Not that strange. Even humans ain't identified all the plants on this planet. Makes sense we wouldn't know 'em all either."

Hound shook his head. "I've downloaded catalogues on most every type of plant and animal life on Earth. If humans have identified it, I'd know it. And yes, there are species that haven't been discovered yet, but mostly in remote places like the Amazon rainforest or the Australian outback. You'd think a place that's been civilized as long as Europe would have most everything identified by now."

"You think this is somehow significant?" asked Prime, worry trickling into his spark. He liked to think that plant life was no threat to his human friends… but then, the Morphobots had been dangerous even to Cybertronians…

"I don't know, but I don't want to take chances." He held up the second vine between his thumb and forefinger, scowling at the twisted, barbed black length. "I'm surprised no tourists have hurt themselves on this stuff yet. You'd think they'd clean it up first thing, if only to avoid a lawsuit."

Jazz looked about ready to reply, but his head jerked up, and every servo in his body tensed. "We got incomin'!"

Prime didn't even need to ask what was incoming – he simply drew his gun from subspace and looked skyward. He couldn't say he was terribly surprised at this – it seemed wherever they went, Decepticons followed them like piranha drones trailing the scent of fresh energon. But he had hoped for a little respite, or at least that they would find a more tempting target than some forgotten castle in Europe. Evidently that had been expecting too much of his old foe.

From the heart of a cloudbank emerged five fliers – three Seekers, the unmistakable boxy form of Soundwave, and the gleaming silver warlord himself. Megatron gestured sharply, and the Seekers dove for the attack while Soundwave angled off to the side. Prime didn't have time to see which way the communications officer had gone before Starscream and his trine opened fire, and he had to focus all his efforts on dodging the blasts and exchanging fire.

"Jazz, keep tabs on Soundwave!" he ordered. "Don't let him out of your sight!"

"Roger-dodger!" Jazz replied, and he bolted.

Hound and Bumblebee pulled their own weapons and returned fire, forcing the Seekers to break formation and scatter. Skywarp launched a missile before veering away with a cackle, and Prime dove to the side to avoid it. The projectile hit the tour guide's car instead, and the vehicle exploded in a rain of twisted shrapnel. He winced, making a mental note to offer Felix some kind of restitution.

_Just stay in the castle, Sparkplug, Spike, Carly, _he thought, climbing back to his feet. _I don't want you caught in the crossfire. And I just hope this doesn't ruin the trip for you, Sparkplug._

* * *

"Funny, these things always look fancier in the movies," Spike noted, ducking through a doorway.

"We do try to impress upon our visitors that these ARE buildings made of stone," Felix explained. "They were often designed more for protection than decoration. Unfortunately, many come expecting to see the castle from Disneyworld, and are disappointed at what they find."

Sparkplug paused to take a picture of a carved fireplace lintel, portraying a dragon with wings spread over the fireplace pit. "I'm not disappointed at all. This place… there's so much history here. And it's exciting knowing that my forefathers lived here… that they gathered around a fire here in the winter, and walked these halls…"

Spike rolled his eyes a little. "My dad the history geek."

"Hey, there's absolutely nothing wrong with learning more about your family history," Carly informed him, elbowing him in the side. "I just wish my family had kept better records. Maybe there's a great military leader in our family line, or one of the great thinkers of the Renaissance…"

"No wishing you had a queen or princess on your side of the family?" asked Sparkplug teasingly.

"Oh, princesses are overrated," Carly laughed. "Personally I'd rather hear I'm related to Joan of Arc than Queen Victoria."

Felix gave a smile of amusement as he led their group into a large chamber. "And this is the throne room. For now we are using it to exhibit items that were found in the castle storerooms during the restoration of the interior. Look all you want, but please don't touch."

Sparkplug nodded, and he moved from exhibit to exhibit, snapping pictures. Spike and Carly walked around the room, admiring suits of armor, tapestries, musical instruments, and even an antique spinning wheel. At the head of the room stood a pair of heavy wooden thrones covered in gold leaf, with a beautifully decorated bassinet sitting off to the side. Spike eyed the thrones, tempted to go up and have a seat in one of them despite the "no touching" rule, but Carly grabbed his elbow and hauled him off before he could go through with it.

"You spoil all my fun," Spike said with an exaggerated groan.

"Have a little respect for your ancestors," she replied with a teasing grin. "Oh wow… look at that!"

Spike laughed. "You say princesses are overrated, but here you are all gaga over a fancy dress."

She punched his arm lightly. "Just because I'm not a huge girly girl doesn't mean I can't appreciate a nice dress every so often." She turned back to the exhibit, a mannequin wearing a full-length gown and sealed off from the elements inside a glass case. "It's beautiful… look, it shimmers in the light."

Spike tilted his head to the side. "Check it out… you tilt your head just right and the fabric seems to change color. Like it's blue from one angle but kinda pink-ish from another… I didn't think they had the technology to make something like that."

"You'd be surprised what people were capable of even before we had very advanced technology," Carly replied. She moved on to the next exhibit. "Now here's something you might like."

"Whoa…" Spike's eyes shone eagerly as he looked it over. "That is so cool."

Sparkplug headed over to get pictures of the exhibit – a jet-black sword laying on a bed of red satin in another glass case. Curiously, it didn't appear to have been blackened by fire or corrosion. Indeed, the blade looked as sharp and new as the day it had been forged, and the detailing on the hilt was still intact. It was simply as if someone had crafted the sword from glossy black metal.

"'Sword of Truth,'" Spike read aloud from the plaque. "'Weapon of the Kingdom, belonging to King Phillip the First.' Funny… it says he only ever used it in battle once."

"Weapon like that, he probably only had to use it once," Sparkplug noted. "If someone came after you with a black sword, wouldn't you be a little intimidated?"

"Ah, the Sword of Truth," Felix noted, coming over to gaze proudly at the weapon. "Recovered from the battlefield after Prince Phillip rescued his bride-to-be from a terrible threat… though the nature of that threat is lost to history. Perhaps a rival lord who wanted her for himself?" He chuckled softly. "This weapon has been kept in the family line for generations, though none wielded it in battle save Phillip himself. He spoke of it having unnatural powers, and did not wish anyone else to use it, saying they would be corrupted by its power."

Sparkplug snorted. "Probably his way of making sure nobody else played with his toys. And the 'unnatural powers' thing was probably just him trying to make his mark in the family legends."

Felix shrugged. "The only power it has exhibited seems to be an inability to rust. We found it in the castle armory, covered in dust and forgotten… but despite the other swords being caked in rust and corrosion, this one needed only a wipe with a damp cloth to restore it to its former glory. Curious, that."

"Think it could be made out of something besides steel?" asked Carly. "Maybe some Cybertronian metals?"

"Would be oddly fitting," Sparkplug acknowledged. "It'd take Perceptor or Wheeljack investigating the sword to be sure, and I doubt they're going to let us take this back to the Ark and run tests on it. Still, if that were true, it would mean our family's always been fated to be connected to the Autobots."

"King Phillip probably never had to fight anything as strong or evil as Decepticons, though," Spike noted. "And I doubt Megatron would be scared off by a little sword-"

Later Sparkplug would think back on Spike's words with a heavy sense of irony. But at that moment, all he felt was a stab of fear when the sounds cut into their conversation – the screech and burst of plasma fire. Even muffled through layers of stone the sounds of a Decepticon attack were unmistakable.

"Of all the days," Sparkplug moaned. "Can't we even take a vacation without worrying about those tin turkeys?"

"We've gotta go out and help them!" Spike insisted, and would have bolted out right then had Carly not gripped his elbow.

"Are you crazy?" she demanded. "We're not even armed! We'll get stepped on or fried to a crisp!"

"But… we have to help Optimus and Bumblebee…"

"She's right, Spike," Sparkplug told him. "We'll be much safer in here. Let Prime and the others chase the Decepticons off before we go outside."

Felix wrung his hands with worry. "Will the castle be safe? They can't have come to destroy this place, could they?"

"Not unless you've got a powerful alien artifact sitting around in here," Carly replied.

Felix sagged in relief. "Only what you saw in the throne room… and there can't be something alien in there, can there?"

"I sure hope…" began Sparkplug, but a loud crash made the four of them turn around.

Two display cases lay shattered on the floor, scattering pewter plates and a diamond jewelry set amidst a sea of broken glass. Perched on the display table in their place was a sleek black form, giving the humans the insolent glare of a house cat who had just been caught swatting knickknacks off a shelf. Even as they watched he reached out and pawed aside another case, and Felix visibly winced as it crashed to the floor.

"Ravage!" Spike shouted.

"An accurate name for it," Felix groaned. "It's ravaging the displays! That dagger set took ages to clean, you overgrown alley cat!"

Ravage gave a growl that sounded remarkably like "don't care" before turning his attention to another case… the case containing the Sword of Truth. He didn't subject this one to the same brutal treatment as the others, however – he simply extended his claws and began to carve through the glass with a horrific screeching sound, cutting the material like a knife through butter.

"Oh no, you don't," Carly snapped, and she bent down and picked up a plate.

"Not the plates!" Felix shouted, but Carly ignored him. Ravage gave a yowl as the plate ricocheted off the back of his head, and he turned to glower at her.

"Get out, Decepti-creep!" she shouted, hurling another plate. "Don't you have any respect?"

"I don't think he cares, Carly," Spike replied, reaching over to the nearest suit of armor. He wrenched a battle axe free of the display stand and ran toward the cassette-cat, the weapon awkward in his hands but no less deadly for it.

Ravage hissed as a third plate bounced off his shoulder, but rather than cut his losses and run he simply shoved the sword's display case to the floor. An explosion of razor-sharp glass filled the air, forcing Carly and Spike to back away, and Ravage took advantage of the moment to leap down and grab something in his mouth.

"Stop him!" Felix shouted.

Spike charged, swinging the axe. Ravage leaped to the side, dodging the blade, and took off at a run, the Sword of Truth gripped tightly in his jaws.

"Dammit!" Spike growled. "He's getting away!"

Sparkplug fumbled in his pocket for his communicator, then thumbed it on and keyed it to Prime's frequency. "Optimus, Ravage is in here! He's got one of the items on display here, a sword of some kind, and he's heading for the exit!"

_Copy, _Prime replied, voice taut. _Sending Jazz to intercept… _The connection cut briefly, then returned. _Still here. Megatron's calling a retreat. Ravage must have what he wants._

"A sword?" Sparkplug frowned. Something felt off about all this. Megatron was infamous for his obsession with strange artifacts – or as Sideswipe sometimes called it, his "shiny object fetish" – but stealing an antique sword was something new. Unless Felix's story was true, and the sword DID have unnatural powers of some sort…

_It should be safe to come out now, _Prime informed them. _But be careful. We don't know if Soundwave left any cassettes behind._

Sparkplug nodded, and he motioned for the others to follow him out.

By the time the four of them made it out of the castle to join the Autobots, it was over. Jazz was just jogging up to the castle, his front caked with mud and grass as if he'd taken a spill. The ground was torn up and charred in places, and a large black smudge littered with debris marked where Felix's Audi had been parked. Thankfully none of the Autobots looked hurt, and save some damage to the grounds the castle had come out of the firefight unscathed.

Felix whimpered and stared at what was left of his car. "And I just paid it off…"

"Jazz, are you all right?" asked Carly.

"Fine," he replied a bit shortly, brushing dirt and sod off his bumper. "Ravage got away, though. Almost had 'im and tripped – Rumble an' Frenzy stretched a cord in my path, th' lil' pests."

"What could Megatron want with a sword, though?" asked Spike. "It's not like he can use it, except maybe as a toothpick…"

"Remember the story the guide told us," Carly reminded him. "About it possibly having powers. And we even thought it might be alien in origin. Maybe Megatron knows something about it that we don't."

Prime nodded. "We need to get back to the Ark, and fast. I'm sorry to cut your trip short, Sparkplug, but I don't think it's safe here any longer. We need to make plans to get the sword back… and hope that the stories are wrong, and that it's just a sword." He sighed deeply. "I want to think that Megatron's wasting his energy on a dead end, but all the same… I have a terrible feeling about this."

* * *

"Why the frag did you call a retreat?" groused Skywarp, sulking behind Thundercracker as they trailed after their commander. "I had the green one square in my sights, I coulda taken him!"

"Hound," Thundercracker corrected. "The green one's Hound. At least learn their names if you're going to take potshots at them."

"Excuse me, but I don't make a habit of calling mechs I'm gonna slag by name. What are ya, some kinda creepy serial killer who likes knowing every intimate detail about who you're offlining?"

"Oh for Primus' sake, Skywarp, are you watching human crime procedurals again?"

"Enough out of both of you!" Starscream snapped. "You're giving me a CPU-ache! But I agree with Skywarp on one point – you were a fool for calling a retreat so early. We could have wiped them all out! Or at least destroyed Prime or that annoying saboteur-"

"And that's enough out of YOU, Starscream!" Megatron snapped. "You're an idiot of the highest order. We got what we wanted, and it would have been foolish to stay any longer."

"You pass up an opportunity to kill the Prime? That's not like you…"

"I said enough!" Megatron looked over his shoulder to glower at the white Seeker. "Do you WANT me to slag you in midair? Shut up!"

Starscream grumbled but subsided.

Soundwave emerged from the clouds beneath the Seekers, rising up to fly beside Megatron. The Decepticon warlord didn't turn to acknowledge him, keeping his gaze focused on the horizon, but one corner of his mouth curled up in a smug grin.

"Report, Soundwave."

"Operation Sword of Truth: successful. Ravage: retrieved human weapon. Artifact in our possession."

"Excellent." His grin widened into a full-blown smile. "Then everything is proceeding as planned!"

"It's a stupid sliver of metal," Starscream sneered. "And of inferior Earth metals to boot. Of what use is it to us?"

"Silence!" Megatron bellowed. "If I want your inane commentary, Starscream, I'll ask for it!"

The Seeker growled and dropped back, letting Thundercracker take the lead.

"Energy readings on sword: inconclusive," Soundwave reported. "No sign of unusual energy fields."

"None that we can detect," Megatron replied, "but that doesn't mean it's useless to us. We will take the Sword of Truth back to our labs and test it… and uncover its secrets for our own use."

"Stories of sword's abilities: legends."

"Yes, but legends have a grain of truth in them. And if this sword is half as powerful as the legends say… it can win this war for us and eradicate the Autobots forever!" And he belted out a triumphant laugh as they soared across the sky, making for the Decepticon base.


	3. Maleficent Rising

Hook rebooted his optical visor a few times as he processed the request, doing his best to keep his face an impassive mask. "Repeat that, my Lord. You want me to do what precisely?"

"I never took you for an imbecile, Hook," Megatron snarled. "You heard exactly what I said."

"You can't be serious," he protested, allowing himself a scowl. "A splinter of metal is hardly worth…"

"You dare question me?" Megatron demanded, optics flashing dangerously.

Hook drew in a deep intake to calm himself before he did something rash. "No, my Lord."

"Good. Now take that sword into your lab and study it. Find out what abilities and powers it has. Report all your findings directly to me immediately, no matter how insignificant they may seem."

"Yes, my Lord." He extended his hand, and Soundwave reached out and dropped the sliver of black metal into his palm. "It will be done as you say."

"Excellent. At least one of my troops has the sense to know when to stop arguing with their commander." And with that Megatron turned and strode away, Soundwave close behind.

Hook waited until the two of them had vanished from view before blasting out an exasperated sigh. He closed his fist around the sword and turned to go back to his lab. It seemed to him that of late, their glorious leader was starting to lose his already tenuous grip on reality. Their mission to destroy the Autobots and take this planet's energy reserves for themselves was constantly being derailed by his bizarre "side quests," as Skywarp liked to put it. He had always had a flair for grand, flashy plans, but at least on Cybertron said plans had been halfway effective. Here, his plans were going from effective to plain lunacy.

Capturing a supposedly magic sword from a human castle and studying its properties was tame compared to SOME of his prior plans, Hook supposed. And if he had to be doing something stupid with his time, better this than building another griffon fortress or assembling a mechanical sewer gator from Optimus Prime's components. If he ever had to find new employment in the future, he was certainly going to leave those two items off his resume.

Scrapper had already cleared a table off for him when he went into the lab, and the bulldozer looked on as Hook set the sword down and reached for his toolkit.

"So that's the cause of all the fuss?" asked Scrapper, tilting his head slightly.

Hook nodded and pulled out a set of tweezers. "Somewhat anticlimactic, but I think we were expecting that."

"_Somewhat _anticlimactic?" repeated Bonecrusher, snorting in an effort to hold back laughter. "Megatron led a mission halfway around this pathetic world for THAT? A fraggin' stick that doesn't even make a good lockpick? We can't even melt it down into anything useful!"

"Don't be so sure of that-that," Mixmaster put in, leaning against the doorframe as he watched. "Even trace amounts of metals in an alloy can make all the difference."

"Can the lot of you make yourselves useful instead of staring?" Hook snapped. "I do not require an audience while I work. Long Haul, get that acid blend from Mixmaster's storage locker. I'll need it to perform resistance tests."

"Make me your go-fer, why don't you," Long Haul huffed, but he went off to do as asked.

Hook picked the sword up in the tweezers and lifted it to optic level, increasing the magnification of his visor until every detail of the sword showed up. Strange… even a fairly new weapon would often have minute scratches and pits in its blade, marks that a good polish could only cover up rather than fix. But this weapon lacked those marks, its alloy as smooth and flawless as the plating of a newly built sparkling. The blade had held its edge as well, and while it was nowhere near sharp enough to cut his plating when he touched a fingertip to it, it still seemed plenty sharp enough to cut human flesh. Curious… a weapon as old as this one should show some signs of wear, but somehow this one had defied the curse of time.

"Any energy readings?" asked Scrapper.

"Nothing unusual," Hook replied. "No energon readings, magnetism, or radioactivity. No other known energy emissions either. That doesn't rule out an energy field that our instruments can't detect, but the likelihood of that possibility is rather slim."

"What's Megatron gonna do with that toy anyhow?" demanded Long Haul, slamming the canister of acid down on the table. "Play action figures? Given how he's gone kinda nuts since we got here, I wouldn't be too surprised."

"Wouldn't that be somethin' if Soundwave or Starscream walked in on him doing that," Scavenger giggled. "Would be hilarious. 'No sir, I didn't see you playing with your dolls again!'"

Mixmaster howled with laughter. "'Oh, your helmet's so big!'"

"If you idiots are done quoting ridiculous human movies, you can give me a hand here," Hook grumbled. "Where the smelt is my ultrasound scanner anyhow? Perhaps the blade has a crystalline core or something…"

"We'll never be done quoting human movies-movies," Mixmaster cackled. "They're stupid, but they're fun. 'Oh, will you look at that. I've been impaled!'"

"You'll be the one impaled in a moment if you don't get me my scanner," Hook snapped.

"Primus, can't a mech have a little fun?" Scavenger muttered, digging around in Hook's toolbox. "Sometimes I swear that Robo-Smasher sucked all the humor out of your spark…"

Violet flashed in the corner of Hook's vision, and an annoyingly familiar face thrust itself into his field of vision – not an attractive sight given that his visor was still on magnification mode, giving him a horrific zoomed-in vision of every dent and seam on the mech's face.

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Gah!" Hook recoiled, frantically rebooting his visor to restore his vision to normal. "Skywarp! How many times have I told you to stay OUT of my lab?!"

"Twenty-seven," Skywarp replied with a cheeky grin. His teleport had landed him on top of Hook's workbench, and he reclined there like a sunbather on a beach chair. "So whatcha doin'? Hear you ended up with Megatron's new toy, lucky you."

"Get out," Hook snapped. "We're in the middle of a research project here, and you're interfering."

"Research? Sounds boring." He squinted his optics and peered at the sword still clutched in Hook's tweezers. "Tiny black sword with a shiny blade. There, research done. I saved you hours of boring work."

"Are you deaf, you thick-helmed winged scrap pile?" Hook demanded. "If Megatron learns you're interfering with an important research project-"

"He'll blame Starscream for it and smack him in the face," Skywarp cut in. "Hey, lemmie see that. Maybe it's one of those special swords that can only be wielded by someone of a certain programming line."

"It was forged by humans, they don't have programming lines," Scrapper pointed out.

"They got DNA, that's kinda like programming," Skywarp replied. "At least if CSI is anything to go by. Here, gimmie!" He reached out to grab the sword, but Hook hoisted it out of his reach.

"Go find something else shiny to play with, you imbecile!" Hook demanded. "Or so help me I'll rewire your warp computer so it teleports you into a black hole!"

"Promises, promises," taunted Skywarp, and made another snatch at the weapon. "I just wanna look!"

"What's going on here?"

Skywarp whirled, immediately looking sheepish. "Megatron, sir! What a surprise!"

The silver warlord stormed into the lab, glaring first at Skywarp, then at Hook. The Constructicon leader kept his expression cool as he met his leader's gaze. Megatron could hardly blame HIM for this altercation – he was simply following orders in attempting to conduct research, and it certainly wasn't his fault that Skywarp had barged in and become a grabby sparkling. Whether Megatron would see it the same way was another matter entirely, however.

"I gave you a simple assignment, Hook!" Megatron snapped. "Are you incapable of carrying it out?"

"The research would be well underway if a certain Seeker would just keep his olfactory sensor out of my business," Hook retorted. "Punish HIM if you must."

"I just wanted a look," Skywarp protested in a pathetic voice. "Is that a crime all of a sudden?"

"Enough of this!" Megatron barked. "If I wanted an army of sparklings I would have recruited from Shockwave's academy! If the lot of you can't even follow simple orders, give me the sword! I'll do it myself!"

"I am perfectly qualified to carry out a simple research project…" began Hook, feeling unfairly maligned at the moment.

"Obviously not!" Megatron snarled, reaching for the sword. "Hand it over! That's a direct order!"

Hook tried moving his hand out of Megatron's reach, but he wasn't quite fast enough. Their hands collided, knocking the sword and tweezers out of his grip. Both items dropped directly into the worst possible place – the acid canister. They sank to the bottom, but not before a puff of smoke rose from the swiftly dissolving metal.

For a moment, stunned silence reigned. Every optic and visor in the room rested on the canister as they waited for what had just happened to register. Megatron's mouth hung open in an expression of horrified anger, and Skywarp wore a look that plainly said he would rather be anywhere else in the known universe than here.

The silence was broken by a clash of metal striking metal, and Hook staggered, visor fuzzed with static and his cranial unit ringing with pain from the blow to his helm.

"You. Consummate. Fool!" Megatron lashed out again, but this time Hook had time to duck and the blow simply cuffed the top of his helm. "You've ruined everything!"

"It was NOT my fault!" Hook retorted. "If everyone would just stay the frag out of my lab…"

"I don't want excuses, you idiot!" Megatron roared.

Scrapper at least acted with some degree of intelligence. He snatched a pair of acid-resistant tongs up from the workbench and plunged them into the canister, reaching for a sliver of metal at the bottom.

"What idiot keeps an open container of acid around anyway?" asked Skywarp, growing a bit bolder now that it was obvious he wasn't in trouble. "Unless they're Mixmaster…"

"The acid was for a controlled test!" Hook retorted. "I wasn't planning on submerging the entire thing…"

"I've got something," Scrapper announced.

Hook's spark lifted slightly as his comrade fished the metal out, then sank again when he recognized it as the remains of his tweezers. "I suppose it's my neck on the chopping block, is it? Despite the fact that none of this is my fault."

Megatron opened his mouth to tear into Hook further… but snapped shut again, optics flaring in surprise. "Primus below…"

Hook stiffened. His tactile nodes prickled as if picking up weird energy emissions, and a strange smell, like mingled sulfur and ozone, burned in his olfactory sensor. Under normal circumstances he would blame this on some chemical reaction of the acid and the sword's alloys… but from the way Megatron, Skywarp, and the rest of the Constructicons were staring at a fixed point just behind him, he was going to assume this was not the case. Steeling himself, one hand raised to snatch a gun from subspace, he turned in place.

It was as if someone had grabbed a fistful of the very fabric of space and was twisting it in their hands. The air seemed to buckle and warp behind them, turning into a smoky column streaked through with poisonous green light. Even as he watched something solid seemed to coalesce in the center of the smoke, radiating a pale green glow that cast the entire lab in an eerie light. An involuntary shiver went down his spinal strut in response, as if the light were a virulent energy that made his systems jolt in reaction.

A hollow, echoing laugh filled the labs, at first faint, then growing louder and stronger as a tall, sweeping form took shape before them. Jet-black and still emitting that poisonous glow, at first Hook assumed it was draconic in nature, with half-furled wings and curved horns. But as the being materialized he realized the horns were some kind of headdress, and the "wings" actually the wide sleeves of a black robe lined in rich purple. The hands and face were the last things to emerge – humanoid, elegant, and covered in pale green-tinged skin. Hawklike eyes flashed from beneath prominent sweeping eyebrows, and the mouth was curved in a look of contemptuous triumph.

The green light flared one last time, then faded, leaving the figure to gaze about the room and take in every detail. Her gaze at last settled on the gaping mechs before her, and her mouth curved in a sinuous smile.

"So the time has come at last," she said, her voice dark and rich and imbued with a sense of authority. "The sword has been broken… and I am now free to pursue my vengeance!"

* * *

Megatron had been inches from pummeling Hook into the next vorn for his destruction of the Sword of Truth, however accidental, then moving on to pound Skywarp for good measure. But the sudden appearance of the black-garbed figure in the Nemesis' labs chased all thoughts of violence from his CPU. Now he could only stare and wonder just what this creature was… and why she was here.

_A human? _he thought in bewilderment. _No, it can't be. Not just the size – no human is as tall as a Decepticon – but there's something about her face, her features… they're too regal, too refined. And no human exudes this… this aura, this force. This is something we've never encountered before._

It was that last part that struck him most forcefully. She didn't give off any detectible energy readings, and yet every sensor in his body practically burned from the aura of power that surrounded her. It was evident in the stance of her body, the pride of her features, the way the very air around her seemed to tremble with the force of whatever energy she carried within her. And it seemed to radiate from her in waves, flowing out with enough force to strike everyone in the room dumb.

It was, in a way, frightening, though Megatron would never admit that aloud. But it intoxicated him as well. Such power… such potential… if he could only harness it for his own use.

The being's gaze rested on him, and her smile faded slightly. "Which of you clockwork men freed me from my prison? I am in a charitable mood right now, and such an action could be generously rewarded."

"Excuse me, but we're not clockwork," Skywarp pointed out rather unhelpfully.

The woman raised an eyebrow. "Such boldness…" She produced a scepter from the folds of her robe, and brushed the tips of her fingers over the glowing sphere of crystal mounted atop it.

"What's tha-" began Skywarp, but the rest of his inquiry was cut off as his mouth vanished from his faceplate. His optics widened, and he grabbed at his face, grunting unintelligibly. The Constructicons backed away from him, as if fearing that whatever had caused his mouth to fuse shut was contagious.

"Perhaps that will teach you to have some respect for Maleficent," she said coldly. "Now… I will ask again. Which of you destroyed the Sword of Truth?"

Megatron arched an optic ridge at that. So the Sword of Truth's power had stemmed not from its construction, but from the fact that it had apparently served as a prison to this creature, whatever she was. Some sort of alien being, perhaps, one far more advanced than any they had encountered before? Or something supernatural in nature? And more importantly, who had sealed her away in the first place… and why?

He brushed those thoughts away almost immediately. They were irrelevant. The important thing was that they knew the truth behind the sword… and now that they had the source of its powers standing right before them, the fact that his subordinates' clumsiness had resulted in its destruction mattered little. The trick now would be deducing how best to control this creature, and utilize her powers for the Decepticons' gain.

Force would do no good here, he decided, not until they knew the extent of her powers. But he had other resources besides strength and firepower – his silver vocalizer, the tool he had used to amass an army and convince half of Cybertron to rally behind him to conquer their world. Perhaps it would also serve him well here…

"My apologies, my lady, for the rudeness of my troops." He stepped forward, shouldering Hook aside, and offered a polite bow. "Welcome aboard the Nemesis, warship in the service of the Decepticon Empire. I am Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, conqueror of Cybertron… and the one who freed you from your prison."

She studied him with a calculating look, one he was all too familiar with from his gladiator days – the look of an arena champion sizing up an opponent, determining how best to defeat them. Then her smile returned. "At least one of you has the proper manners, it seems." She held a hand before her, palm up, in a gesture of greeting. "Maleficent, the most powerful of the Fae, queen of darkness."

Bonecrusher snorted in laughter. "A fairy? Oh Primus, that's hilarious… where's her wings?"

Maleficent touched the head of her staff again, and Bonecrusher's mouth vanished. "It seems I must teach your men a lesson in basic etiquette," she noted.

"At ease, my lady." It was difficult to say that when he was feeling no such ease himself – indeed, watching this creature work her powers on his troops was irritating him to no end – but he strove to hold his temper in check. "My troops may not be exceptionally intelligent, but they are not beyond teaching. Restore Skywarp and Bonecrusher, and I will ensure they behave themselves."

She smirked. "You have a lot of nerve, Megatron, to presume you can order a Fae about."

"I presume nothing, Maleficent. My troops may be incompetent, but we must make do with what resources we have."

She narrowed her eyes at that. "Something we have in common, then… though I question whether your men are salvageable."

Hook clenched his fist, radiating indignation, but held his vocalizer.

"You did me one good turn, however," Maleficent mused, "so I suppose I can do you something in return." She made a gesture with two fingers in the air, and Skywarp and Bonecrusher's mouths reappeared.

"-just making an observation," Skywarp grumbled. "Oh hey, you fixed it… thanks."

"-fraggin' rotten pixie thing," Bonecrusher huffed. "Shoulda kept her in her sword…"

"Both of you shut up!" Megatron snapped. "Or I'll let her do as she wishes with you!"

Skywarp yelped and vanished in a flare of violet. Bonecrusher looked about to grumble again, but thought better of it and simply ducked behind Scavenger.

Maleficent let her gaze linger on the Constructicons just long enough for them to start squirming uncomfortably before returning her attention to Megatron. "This world has changed much since I last saw it. Do mechanical men now rule the world? Or are you golems in the service of another power?"

"I would be happy to explain everything, Maleficent… but first I have a proposal." He extended his hand, carefully arranging his faceplates in his best diplomatic expression. "I invite you to join us, to unite your powers with the Decepticon cause. Aid us in our quest… and once this world is subjugated to our rule and our foes vanquished, you may rule it as you see fit."

She smirked in response. "You wish to forge an alliance, then."

"We can accomplish great things together," he replied. "Your powers and our firepower… we would be an unstoppable force!"

She laughed softly. "You'll have to do better than that, Megatron. You speak of an alliance, but you have nothing of interest to offer me." Another laugh rippled through the air as she caught his startled expression. "If I so chose I could take this world over with a snap of my fingers. If you wish to convince me to join your side, you'll need to promise me something I want."

He narrowed his optics. "And what is it that you want?"

Her smile took on a cold cast now. "Revenge."


End file.
